


Domesticity (Or, Three Times Percy And Annabeth Wrecked Their New Place And One Time They Didn't)

by shiiki



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-28 04:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13896111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiiki/pseuds/shiiki
Summary: Percy and Annabeth have been looking forward to getting their new place ... but between the monsters and their own, er, accidents, demigod cohabitation isn't quite smooth sailing.





	Domesticity (Or, Three Times Percy And Annabeth Wrecked Their New Place And One Time They Didn't)

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic from earlier this year that I wrote as a birthday treat for myself. Because I am a boring person who thinks blue cookies and cosying up in my Camp Half-Blood jumper to write percabeth fluff is the best birthday present.

_one._

In retrospect, the house-warming party was a bad idea.

That many demigods in one place, they should've known the monsters would be on them like bees to honey.

Of course, the monsters got totally schooled. In a way, it makes for pretty sweet payback, suckering them in with the ultra-tantalising scent of so many demigods and then hitting them with a _SURPRISE! MONSTER SLAYING BONANZA_ by the most experienced monster killers of the current era.

All the same, it's not a battle you want in your living room.

There's a hole in the wall that separates their living room and kitchen where Frank accidentally punched a _cynocephalus_ 's head into it. Jason's pretty much given them a new skylight where he flew a hellhound straight out the ceiling. Forget curtains—those went up pretty quickly the moment Leo got going (Annabeth should probably just be glad he didn't burn the whole place down). Hazel definitely owes Annabeth some new jewellery after her gold necklaces got repurposed as nooses for a couple of _empousai_. At least Piper had the sense to sweet-talk the _dracaenae_ into flinging themselves to their deaths down the escape stairs, though Annabeth doesn't relish explaining to their building super why the stair rails now have an ashy finish.

Annabeth picks her way carefully across the shattered window glass on their floor—this one's hers and Percy's own fault; sword-fighting in their tiny living room was bound to smash some windows.

'We just moved in,' she says mournfully.

'It's not that bad,' Percy tries.

She raises her eyebrows and spreads her hand, like, _are you LOOKING at this damage?_

'Er, it's not the worst we've seen? At least the building's still standing.'

Annabeth sighs. 'And no one's hurt,' she acknowledges. 'We'll just have to …'

Percy's mouth twists contemplatively. 'Won't be the worst mess we've cleaned up. And hey, you can redesign everything now. Weren't you saying you wished you had an open-plan kitchen?'

Trust Percy to find a bright side. Annabeth eyes the room critically. 'An open-plan kitchen, and natural lighting from a skylight—I mean, what's the point of being on the top floor if you can't make use of roof access?'

Percy kisses her cheek. 'There you go. Now you can build this into our dream apartment.'

Annabeth laughs. 'As long as this doesn't become a regular occurrence.'

+++

_two._

The smell of smoke intrudes on Percy's Saturday morning lie-in. He was hoping for a nice, long snuggle in bed—ideally with some cuddling—but no, he's woken up way too early. (Okay, he doesn't know what time it is exactly, but it's _always_ too early the first time you open your eyes every morning.)

And something's burning.

He's immediately alert, eyes scanning the room, Riptide in his hand, the familiar swirl of adrenaline rushing through his veins like the waves of the sea. His battle senses catalogue the room: the empty spot next to him on their bed; the bedroom door, slightly ajar; the faint whiff of Annabeth's lemon shampoo over the smoke wafting through the gap that tells him she hasn't left their bed for too long.

 _Colchis bulls,_ he thinks, running through all the fire-breathing monsters he knows, _or the Chimera._ Didn't Hera have a fire-breathing crab? Though if the goddess of heaven has sent a monster into their little domestic haven on a Saturday morning after everything he's done for her in the past, he's gonna be seriously pissed.

He catches sight of Annabeth sprinting through the hallway, cursing fluently in ancient Greek. In their kitchen, flames are shooting up from the stove range. Percy doesn't even stop to think. A protective surge of power twists through his gut and the water explodes from the sink faucets, dousing the flames, Annabeth, and—

And no monsters.

The only sign of ash is the charred round blob in their frying pan.

Annabeth turns to him. The expression on her face is definitely not her _thanks for the help, babe_ look.

'Um,' he says, glancing from her soaking wet curls to the kitchen tap—damn, he's gone and exploded their pipes—and trying to make sense of the whole situation. 'You were—'

'Trying to make pancakes!' She flings the pan onto the kitchen table. 'I could've dealt with it.'

Percy raises his eyebrows. 'Were flames part of the ingredients?'

She glares at him. He pulls her to him by the wrist. Annabeth resists, but only for a second. 'I only left them for one second, I swear—'

Soaking wet or not, she's absolutely adorable when she's frustrated. Percy presses a kiss to her forehead. 'I could've made you breakfast, you know.'

'Yeah, but you always do. I just thought for once …'

He laughs. 'Maybe stick to the waffle iron next time. Although I'm not convinced you can't manage to burn that up, too.'

'And, uh, maybe we better call Leo to fix the plumbing.'

+++

_three._

Annabeth would've preferred not to work on Saturday—she was looking forward to lazy weekend lie-in with her boyfriend ever since they moved into their new apartment—but since when have the gods ever cared about the days of the week? Or waking mortals at the crack of dawn because apparently fading metopes on the temple to the sun is a major emergency.

(Just because Apollo has to be up before the sun doesn't mean she has to get dragged out of her bed—her warm, Percy-full bed—this early on a Saturday morning.)

But that's life as the architect of Olympus.

When she gets home nine hours later, the last thing she wants to deal with is the flood that greets her when she walks into their apartment.

Okay, so it's just water, and it's only ankle-deep, but the point is, there isn't supposed to _be_ water on the floor, period. It retreats as she walks in, like someone's sucking it up with a straw. Annabeth follows its trail through the living room—where their plasma TV has an ominous crack separating two cartoon monsters on the screen. For some reason, the air smells of ozone.

Percy is in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet seat with his palms held out to a burst pipe. He's obviously trying to direct the water back in, but judging from the constipated expression on his face, it's not easy even with his water-bending talents.

Balancing on the edge of the bathtub, trying to wrench the piping back in place while keeping up a flickering IM connection in their shower, is Jason. Leo's face flickers in and out of view in the rainbow, along with his rapid-fire handyman instructions.

'Slow down,' Jason complains. 'I can only hear one word in ten.'

'Dude, can't you even keep a simple IM steady?'

'Percy keeps sucking the water supply away.'

'You try holding all the building's water together when the pipe's blown!'

'Dude, _you_ exploded your water pipes? Again? You really love wrecking your place, huh.'

Percy glares at Jason. 'It wasn't just me.'

'I told you, I didn't mean to—'

'Go all lightning-happy on our plasma?'

Annabeth clears her throat. Bad idea, she realises a moment later, when both boys jump. Jason's wrench goes flying into the tub, straight at the holographic rainbow image of Leo's face (he ducks, even though it's just an IM, and she hears him growl, 'Okay, I'll come over, geez.') Percy loses his hold on the water and it comes flooding back out over the floor.

'Did you too get into a fight?'

Percy and Jason exchange guilty looks.

'We, er …'

Annabeth crosses her arms and waits.

'Jason came over to play Pokémon Battle Revolution.'

'We just got a bit …'

'Carried away.'

'The pipes exploded when Percy's Blastoise attacked,' Jason says quickly.

'Lightning hit the living room when Jason counter-struck with Jolteon,' Percy shoots back.

Annabeth shakes her head. 'I'm just gonna order pizza and let you guys sort this one out.'

'Pizza sounds good,' Percy says.

' _After_ you've fixed the pipes!'

She hears the boys groan and she smirks, heading for the bedroom to kick off her wet shoes. And get the pizza guy on the phone.

At least it isn't monsters this time. Well, not _actual_ ones, anyway.

+++

_four._

Percy awakens to the quiet of a Sunday morning.

Well, it's not perfectly silent—there's still Annabeth's soft breathing next to him, an occasional horn from passing cars on the street below, the distant howl of a police siren (it's New York, after all—the city that never sleeps).

But still. No emergencies. No monsters. Just him and Annabeth, cosy in bed in their own home. Together.

Percy props himself up on one arm to look at his girlfriend, smiling at the cute way her nose scrunches up in her sleep. One blonde curl has drifted across her face. Percy watches it flutter with her breath for a few seconds before reaching to brush it away.

Annabeth stirs. Percy loves watching her wake up—her mouth does that little pout, as if it knows before her mind does that she's being dragged back to consciousness, and then a half-yawn as her eyes blink open.

'What time is it?' she murmurs sleepily.

'Who cares?'

Annabeth snuggles closer to him. 'No fires to put out? No dire emergencies?'

'Don't even _think_ about it,' he warns. 'First law of demigod-ism, remember?'

Annabeth laughs. 'Never tempt the Fates.' She curls her legs around his. 'Just enjoy the peace as long as it lasts.'

This is more like what he hoped to have regularly when they finally moved in together. Lazy morning cuddles, with an empty day stretching ahead for just the two of them.

'This is nice,' he says.

'I like morning cuddles,' she agrees. 'We need more of them.'

'No arguments here. I vote to make Sundays official morning cuddle days.'

It probably won't last—life and the inescapable demigod-associated insanity will almost certainly intrude at some point. But Percy's never been one to worry too much about what's around the corner. Annabeth is here now, snug in his arms, so he's happy just enjoying this perfect moment with her.


End file.
